The 'Cluster site' for LINKS.

Journeys of the Mind, (C)1994-2004 A. Alexander Volenski

Chapter 7, unedited excerpts
Location: Moonlight Night on the Isle of Ibiza.
Characters: Stilly & Harry & Love
Time: A Summer Delight.

Crystal Dreams

  ...Harry sensed he was within a being, possibly his soul, as an observer
only, living and feeling the unknown-known of himself.  He now dreamt in
a realness that moved and saw, heard and understood, and it went as follows.
  He had risen with the night to a path of preceding light, which led down
a spiral like corridor to a vast tumbling plain.  The plain itself was
engulfed in reflections from light, and mesmerized the night with a silvery
glow.  He stopped and peered, yet could not clearly see, and he could hear
a long rumbling sound like distant rolling thunder which seemed to hold
this captured place in time.
  Then a lady appeared, and as he looked he knew that the lady came to touch
his mind, as he had come to feel her touch, neither knew the other, yet
they knew each other.  "Come and see as you seem," she said.  "Come and be
as you deem," he replied.
  Their forms began to mix like two flickering flames that were held close
together, and in a moment the moon traveled across the sky as though
several hours had passed in that instant, then the moon disappeared quickly
behind the horizon.
  Out of their together forms a single ball of light appeared, a corposant
sphere, and it jumped up and floated in the air, spinning and whirling and
twirling, then the orb of light shot up into the sky, turned and came down low
and flew over the ground, and vanished through an invisible wall.
  Harry did not awake, and remained in a deep slumber, one of anticipation
and intuition, as he searched for Stilly within this region of himself...
  ...Stilly relaxed and let herself move toward the spirit of Harry, which
she had learned to recognize.  She reached with her love, and when she felt
him, she drew him to her and floated with his energy to merge it with hers;
an exquisite sensation.  Stilly would now use all her ability and knowledge
to accomplish something she had always desired with anticipation.
  She knew the power of aspiration and moved with it, and as she moved she 
dreamt of walking out through the patio doors toward the lawn and sea.
As she strolled she looked over the hill that was nearby and thought to
herself, 'the time will come, it would come.'
  The night air was wild with needs of the flesh, and would interpret her
pleasures into something else.  The origin of her being was present within
an intricate part of the universe, and it seemed to that original part of
herself, she now was attached or linked.  A portion of that part played out
as upon long ribbons that floated seemingly always on the winds of time.
She could see in her imagining a long streaming ribbon, like an aurora
borealis, pulsing, glowing, fluttering, with all the colors of the rainbow,
and that ribbon flew ahead of her down a long pathway, changing pulsing,
glowing spectrum hue; always just a step beyond.
  Her body seemed only an entwined part of something which she now had no
control.  The universal origin of which she now felt, cascaded itself upon
her, running freely through her, and as it came her emotions were flooded
and merged with many falsehoods and many truths, all mixed together and
then freed to run through her mind and body at once, causing her form to
feel many emotions simultaneously; all persisting in a constant pull and
push.  This all went on creating enveloping waves that stretched her being
in what seemed beyond her human endurance.
  The surrounding conflicts, truths, and falsehoods, which streamed through
her, battled and tore at her inner being, truth attempting to free her,
falsehoods trying to cloud her will, a will set to find him, the one of
whom she had imagined and wished to be with.  Her identity would not slow
to let intelligence adjust, but rode on endlessly it seemed, and she must 
follow.
  Oh, that mystic enhancer and player in the port of time.  An endless
domain (the port of time) that ever created and dissolved.  Light's vast
span of blending, filtering, shaping, reshaping; all a variety of time
itself, in an endless land of ever again and again.
  As she dreamed, she thought that perhaps she had over done it again,
mixing things as she had, trying to understand and untangle the mess that
the conflicts had made in her life, and many like her; the ones who reached
out to take hold of their own sensitivity in a conceivable way.
  The spirit of conception flew through the aery reaching to her, and again
she said to herself, 'the time will come, it would come.'  Unforgotten it
would be, ever and alive, free to love reach desire, take and give, but
it must never die.  Death is only known as oblivion to the sensitive, a
most terrible and difficult thing to overcome.
  Stilly moved on in twilight, and the sand of the shore slipped between 
her toes as she walked in her dream; it felt cool and timid, yet warm
and knowing, wanting.  The tall knee high grass brushed against her legs
making her skin tingle as it touched her mind with thoughts.  Thoughts of
warm love, the kind that lasted longest and would never turn away.  The
kind of love that came to you whenever you called, the kind that always
made sure you would never be alone, alone in that closeness of self, that
after away place, shared only with the one, the one of your own knowing,
the one you loved.
  The beach in the dark appeared silvery white in the moon light, and as
she walked, she looked along the shore, and in different places she saw
large rocks that lay at random, all a very dark charcoal black.  "How can
I tell you why," she spoke to herself as she walked and gazed at the distant
dark solid rocks all clumped in their silence.  The sea was silent too,
yet seemed to whisper in tune to the steps she took.
  Looking toward where she had come, the tall trees stood watching, recording,
witnessing her alone walk, on her lonely shore, in her aloneness.  She was the
Lady, the Woman, who could spell love in all ways, for if she wished,
so it would be, for she now was Love personified.  When she smiled it was
sweet and seemed to say, "I want to thank you," and the trees that watched
knew how sad that smile could be when and if love went away, and they 
seemed to speak that message to her as she walked.  "If love must go...then
I'll go with it," she reflected, and she pushed the thought aside.  It was
the conflicting, the critical, that sent love wayward.
  Looking to the sky, she knew that she was always out there, just as
the stars, moon, seasons, an all that is written within and without.
Looking back to the sea, its quiet calm and vast reaching power seemed
to peer at her in the darkness, peering with all of its endless time and
knowledge, and seemed to represent to her at that moment, a living intelligence
and being.  Like an ancient father, the sea, a great and divine father,
that loved dearly his daughter, and would never forget her in her struggle
and search for her love.
  The depth of the night was easy to feel as it reached up inside of the
mind, while the light of the stars circulated with their constant reminder,
a silent reminder, unspoken reserve, always there for her: "who is it--
that I only exist to be with?"  The solemn oath to love one another, a
free bonding oath entwined with love, a bonding made for their existence,
ever coupled with a duality complete; for the worded oath and thinking mind
had sealed it so.  The mistakes were like so many starts and stops that glow,
she knew how to overcome them, as well as the stars knew how to remain
constantly shining as they sang their silent song.  The melodious choir of
the stars would never stop in their quest to make everything balance with
that rhythmic dance of pleasure and desire.
  ...She walked up the little hill to the villa...Slowly she went through
the wish she would cast in a spell...It all seemed to come clear to her
after awhile, and getting up she went into the house, a home by the sea,
one placed in a span of time, one designed and built for just such an occasion.
  Touching the quietness she disrobed, and let her gown fall slowly to the
floor, and standing before the moon, she whispered, "love desire, love desire,
love desire, sensation."  ...Her senses smoothed and soothed her mind, as a
warm blush encompassed her body, for an aura appeared to glow upon her,
and a warm breeze came tumbling out of the night and moved quietly to touch
her.  The gold furniture and white room seemed to glow with a silvered
intensity, as the moonlight reached her and touched her naked body, as did
the fluttering warm breeze that too filtered into her room.  ...She now
became clothed in a silver silken gown of moonlight.  Then she turned from
the room, stepped outside and walked toward the lawn.  ...Then she saw 
something step out of a dim dark mist.  A figure moved as upon the warm
dew, crossed over the small hill above the sea and came up to her.
  He reached for her hand and said, "come, come let us live the wish of
the lovers kiss."  She and he together laid upon the grass, it smelt sweet
and felt soft, the dew was warm, and they became kissing lips touching
and soothing kissing lips.  All was as all is.  They were lifted together
into a swirling cloud of intimacy where neither were betrayed, all else
became two as one.  Body giving mind, mind giving light, as sensation 
became pleasure, and desire became their pleasure for their desire.  Both
now were encompassed by the body and mind which pulled them forward into
a presence, and touched them with a gracefulness entirely their own.
  Upon the sea the moon glistened, as the coolness of night became lost
in whispering caresses, and they clung and touched each other with delights
sensual and full; soon dawn in rosy glow, came to clothe her and him, both
covered with dew upon the lawn.  She opened her eyes and saw him, her man
of dream sleeping breathing next to her there on the meadowy grass above
the sea.  And in the stillness of the approaching dawn, she heard a voice
of a child with its Cupido tone of innocence echoing in the air, "a love--
love."  Her hand lifted his, her eyes turned toward her chamber of day,
and he awaking stood and walked toward his path in twilight, disappearing
as within a mist, as he returned to what would be his land of dream.  For
this was the spell she had inspired in, "the wish of the lovers kiss."
Returning to her bedroom, she fell upon the large round bed, and as the
first rays of the sun pierced the sky and her room, she became quiet
peaceful sleep.
  Harry tossed and turned in his sleep, yet he did not awake, however he
knew all that had taken place.  He continued to walk upon the path of dream,
and the dim light changed and lightened and he found himself upon a tall
hill above a sea; it was approaching evening.
  Oh precious spring summer and sweet June with your awaking eyes, how
genuine and true you are, especially to the observer of one's own mystery.
Oh sweet turning month, turning as you must in your grand necessity,
can you in all your depth, help those who would help themselves to better
fathom their enigma, within their struggle to find love.  Can thee dear month
of June, in all your bounty and plentifulness, open the way for the future
to step into the present and divulge it all.  And can the reader of one's
own thoughts, lift the unknown of their life in just such a revealing.
  He looked skyward as he laid on the grass in this evening of June, where
swallows did glide fly and chirp through the clear blue sky, and his hope
continued to unfold within its heritage natural and fine.  He laid back his
head upon the grass and felt it rub against his ears.  The sound of a 
thousand birds echoed with the approaching twilight as he breathed deep,
and he could smell the sweetness that drifted effortlessly everywhere from
springs youthful maiden flora.  He was not alone, for in his thoughts the
natural surroundings reached inmost as friend or companion, and touched all
there was within him.
  He opened himself completely, letting all go through him and out of him,
he focused upon the half moon there in the distance, pearly white and
surrounded in blue.  And he wondered why all can be so peaceful, so clean
and precise, so innocent and giving, so sweet and gentle, and why he, a
man who waged war, should deserve so much beauty shared in this surrounding
moment.  He wondered why the vicious savages of war would be allowed to
exist within the same world as this, how this peaceful moment could even
be imagined to exist within that which he was about and performed.  He
wondered what great mind would have designed and conceived a world with
two such far reaching differences, and allow them to exist side-by-side.
  He a man of war, was driven like the wind in his efforts and pursuits
to conquer, conquer a people controlled by an enemy, for very little is
forgotten or forgiven.  So this dreaming man reflects, he rationalizes,
and comes to terms with the moment and the thoughts inspired by the spring-
summer evening.  In the lingering light he sat up and looked down from
the hill he was upon, and viewed the harbor where many boats were docked
and moored.  He reasoned that all his victories, were proof that what he
did was in keeping perhaps to preserve the world of these gentle surrounds.
In this place of an ancient time, he knew and understood that he was a
leader of armies, a conquer of nations.
  He stood and walked toward the ships, and as the dusk of the night 
approached he moved with it and didn't question that which must be, for
his faith and hope reassured him that what he did was for a greater good.
He reasoned that if there was some great mystery, a mystery which he did
not know, or perhaps he had not been given consciousness of, there would
be someone or something to open that which was within him, and he would
become aware, and thus, eventually all would be realized.  Such was the
faith of this conquering man of war, and as he stepped closer to the ships
he spoke into the quiet air, "and if all is not realized, then even that
I will have to accomplish."  Continuing he mused, "if one as me was denied
full understanding, it will have to be lived with," then stopping for a
moment he turned and looked back up the hill, slightly insecure he was
when dealing with this puzzling possibility while under watchful eyes
of June.  For in that momentary glance which held a brief peacefulness
for the mind of his warring self, his inner remoteness did reach toward
that hill, desiring its comfort and companionship, and small hill above
which peeked down to him and lofty ships all harboring so, seemed to smile
in the stillness with an acknowledgement which the identity within him
understood.
  Twilight was fast approaching and he had pressing commitments to keep,
yet his thoughts on the hill were still clear and precise in his mind,
for with him the surrounding composure traveled too, as mentor from a 
quiet eventide in June.  'Somewhere somehow,' he thought, 'all must be
realized.'
  Turning, he walked on toward the ships and the army and the battle he
pursued, a war licensed for a greater good.  As he approached his ship,
a ship of strife, built to surge within the sea of turmoil, the guards
stood alert, their belted swords clinging at their waist, shields near,
pike-poles held; "good fighting men with intellect too," he reflected.
  The wooden ship loomed in its dark shadowy shape, it was large, and
only a small light shown from the cabin in which he, the man of war and
her a woman of love, shared this night.  He walked aboard in silence and
no one spoke, they knew he was not to be disturbed even spoken too, for
his thoughts this night were on a woman and not on making war.  Even within
the mind of carnage and war, there is a moral respect for the love shared
between man and woman; for passion knows truly how to embrace all.
  Stepping into the cabin, he sat down and took off his leather sandals,
and set his sword against the trunk that sat at the foot of the bed, and
he looked to her a very beautiful and knowledgeable woman.  "Come closer
Afar, and let me share your love," she said.  She lay on the bed dressed
in a very light green gown of fern design.  Its folds clung to her firm
breasts showing her aroused nipples as she breathed.  The gathering of
her dress laid gingerly upon the ridge between her legs, displaying that
place where her essence was hidden, warm with desire; ardor and mild smoothness
resided there too.  An alabaster lamp flickered and reflected against the
interior of the cabin, cascading upon her long blond hair, her skin glowed
and was perfumed with deep honeyed scent, he could smell and almost taste
it upon his tongue, and his mouth watered; she was very provocative, 
alluring, seductive, a woman bathed in natural beautiful passion.
  Then she lifted a sting of amber beads from around her neck and slowly
removed her minted fern gown, and the man of war looked upon her nudity
in an ardent way.  "Why do you call me Afar?" he asked as he undressed.
She watched him remove his clothing, his nude body and lean physical strength
shown, firm and handsome he was to her in all his nakedness.  She could see
the power he held was a power of will combined with physical strength.
There stood a mature man with masculine intensity, emotion, passion, a man
who knew his potency and capacity, a man that knew what he was, what he
could do, a man confident brave secure, a man that had learned to apply
all that he was, a man also who knew Woman.
  She let her eyes trace over his form, and she felt sensual urges come
alive within her, cravings and hungers for pleasure, wild and full feelings
which surged and mesmerized her, and she moved her tongue over her lower
lip, and a tingle raced through her thighs and met there within her loving
place, where she desired to feel him coupled to her, and the nipples of
her breasts became firm and the palms of her hands perspired.  "Why do I
call you Afar," she responded, "it is a name I chose long ago, a name I
gave to a 'pure man'," she said smiling.
  Then as she looked at his nakedness, she reached out her arms, and he 
laid upon her, his skin was smooth and rough, and he had a deep earthy
smell that even seemed sweet, then she whispered, "Afar is a name, an
ancient name, it means, to realize life."  And her words continued to
echo through his mind, "to realize life, to realize life," and continued
to repeat as everything faded away into the surrounding warmth of her body.
  Born like a crystal, taking form in a space, in a time and place called
Earth, how long it is til we discover ourselves and the beauty we are.
The crystal blend of love, it never ends, and within fields of sapphire,
emerald, and clear quartz, we woo, and some fly in dream, soaring within
a mystery which is hidden in the message of the future.  Touch to touch,
thought to thought, lips to lips, time unknown and known, and to all, all
is ours, 'for here we have occurred.'  The beauty of love grows, reaching
out to the human form, touching the mind and releasing with a sense of
wonder.  Love, ever caring and sharing all, shares too with a spirited
being that desires nothing more than to be free in a living form.
  "To realize life," she repeated to herself as she walked and remembered
her ancient past, and all the things that she had lived, experienced,
became part of, and she wondered if there was a better way.  The truth of
her existence lives always, past present future, as a companion of the
good.  And like a dream within a dream, she lives, remembers, recalls and
endures with the love of her being.  She will not be controlled, forced,
nor imprisoned, and runs free, gives freely, loves completely, for the
entity within her would have it so.
  She knew what she wanted, her beauty was glorious, it was clean, it was
like an ocean, ever cleansing, renewing, she was an Eternal Lady of Love.
She now spoke to herself in a melodious way, a quiet way, and her quiet
thoughts tumbled on and spoke within her.  "What shall be born of purity?"
"Let the man, oh, my passion how it gave of the pure thought, spirited
dream.  It was he, a man, a keeper, something then, something entirely
original.  Yes, the thoughts were then, the feelings were then, 'he I will
call Afar,' it is a good name, for it told of once of me, come to me again,
a pure man."
  There is a portion of wind in light that sings a song, a whirling, twirling
song, whose beam is a nourishment for the spirit, something the soul can
actually perceive.  This wind reaches all the way to the beginning, a place
that can be imagined as a brightly lighted room at the end of a tunnel.
  ...The nature of the human comes around to complete the 'touch' that divulges
more.  The 'sound' of the human sways the heart and the soul.  The 'sight' of
the human is everywhere in spirit.  The 'motion' of the human speaks all ways.
It is with these conveying senses, which are elaborate and made with an
involvement, that we must reach beyond...
  The path which Stilly and Harry now traveled together had widened a little,
and went before them with more light.  A path with many cross roads, bends,
and side roads, and there were dead-ends too.  And if a sidetrack was taken,
where would it lead, and what would then, become of Melody and Minuet?

'Total commitment with love is a necessity.'

[This chapter is longer than there is room here to include; realize that
the next day when Stilly and Harry awoke and enjoyed the day at the villa,
many things, experiences took place on the lawn in front of the patio,
where they had arranged a pavilion with an ancient rug, furniture, lunch,
and had some very important conversations; also they again met the young
girl who appeared in the chapter Ibiza, and she spoke with them and explained
many good things...]

~
[Next, chapter 8, The Child;
note: this text is yet to be proof read.]

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